Grace's Forgiveness (16 page)

“Grrrr.”

The hair on Mark’s neck quilled. “Do you see anything?”

Mr. Blauch cupped his ear. “Sounds like a bear.”

A child’s terrified scream rang out. “Somebody help me!”

Mark’s heart thudded against his ribs. The shriek was definitely a child’s in obvious distress. Something had happened. He pointed to a spot beyond a cluster of trees and headed for it. “It came from over there. Let’s be as quiet as possible.”

He took a step at a time then stopped. He held his breath for a moment. Beads of sweat formed on his upper lip. He put his palm out to stop Mr. Blauch and then put a finger to his lips.

Jonah sat hugging his knees to his chest with his back against a tree. The young boy’s face was deathly white, and his eyes were wide with fright.

Mark raised his gun and aimed at the bear.

Mr. Blauch didn’t move or make a sound.

A black bear, on all four legs, lifted his head and growled at Jonah. His large mouth opened, and the animal bared his fangs. The bear sniffed then stood on his hind legs and growled louder, this time whipping his head to and fro.

Mark couldn’t afford to miss. Jonah had invaded the bear’s territory, and the animal didn’t like it. His shirt stuck to his back, soaked with the perspiration of raw fear.

“Mark! Help me!” Jonah, face as pale as milk and eyes as big as silver dollars, struggled to stand.

Mr. Blauch yelled, “Be still, Jonah.”

Jonah pressed his hand against the tree and stood anyway.

The bear growled again at Jonah.

Mark held his breath and squeezed the trigger.

The animal dropped to the ground with a thud and lay still.

Mark exhaled and lowered the shotgun.

Jonah ran and jumped into his arms. “You saved me! I was so scared! I thought the bear was going to attack me.” He buried his head in Mark’s shoulder, his small body racked with sobs.

He rubbed the young boy’s back. “I’ve got you. The bear can’t hurt you. You’ll be snug and safe at home soon.”

Mr. Blauch accepted Mark’s gun, walked over, and prodded the bear with the barrel of his gun. “He’s dead.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and aimed his gun at the clouds. “I’ll shoot twice to alert the other men we’ve found you. Cover your ears.”

Jonah squinted and covered his ears. He buried his head farther into Mark’s shoulder.

Mr. Blauch stepped away and shot twice toward the sky. “I’m not a great shot. I’m thankful you are. You acted fast. Good job, son.”

Other searchers joined them, expressed their relief the boy had been rescued, and then gathered around the bear.

Mark touched Jonah’s leg. His hand was sticky and stained red. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Jonah straightened his legs, ready to stand, as Mark put him down. “I caught my leg on a tree branch. It scratched me.”

Inspecting the wound, Mark studied the injury. “It doesn’t appear deep, and it’s not bleeding much.” He tugged a plain white handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it around Jonah’s leg to slow the bleeding. “This should do until you get home. Your mamm can put a proper dressing on it later.”

Mr. Blauch rubbed his arm. “What were you doing in the woods alone?”

Jonah bowed his head and stuck out his bottom lip. “I asked Mamm if I could go berry pickin’.” He shuffled his feet and kicked a stone. “She said no, and I went anyway.”

Mr. Blauch narrowed his eyes and waggled his finger at the child. “You mustn’t ever disobey your parents. If you go away from home, it must be with an adult and only with your mamm or daed’s permission. Understand?”

A tear trickled down Jonah’s dirty cheek, and he met Mr. Blauch’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again. I’m scared to go into the woods. The big bear Mark killed might have a friend.”

“You might be right.” Mark gently tapped the boy’s nose. “Let’s get you home.” He carried him a few steps.

Mr. Keim dashed to them. “Jonah!” The look of relief on the man’s face was heartrending.

Friends and neighbors followed behind Jonah’s daed.

The man took his son from Mark’s arms and hugged him tight. “You scared me! We must go to your mamm. She’s worried sick about you. You must never go into the woods alone again.”

Jonah’s eyes got big. “Mark saved me. He shot the biggest bear in the whole world.”

Mr. Keim thanked Mark and the other volunteers. “I’m thankful I heard your signal shots out on the water. I came as fast as I could. I’ll never be able to express to you in words how much saving my son means to me. Danki.” His eyes swam with tears. “I should take him home. His mamm must be frantic.”

Mr. Blauch asked, “Would you like me to fetch your boat and bring it to you?”

“Danki, but two of my friends are already taking care of it.” He bid them farewell and headed home with the boy grasped tight in his arms.

Mark and Mr. Blauch studied Mr. Zook and Mr. Pine alongside two other men scrutinizing the bear.

Mr. Zook approached Mark. “I overheard the boy tell his daed you killed the bear. We appreciate what you did for Jonah. Danki.” He cocked his head. “Are you interested in the bear? If not, I’d like to have it. Several of the men have offered to help me with it. We’ll sell the hide and donate the money to the Amish community fund for those in need. We’ll deliver the meat to the widows.”

“I like both your ideas. You’re wilkom to the carcass.”

“Danki.” Mr. Zook returned to his friends.

Mark drew a breath. He thanked God for Jonah’s safe return to his parents. He hoped Mr. and Mrs. Keim would punish the boy. Jonah must understand the importance of obeying his parents. He and Mr. Blauch returned through the woods to their wagons.

“Son, danki for coming with me to find Jonah. Would you care to go target shooting sometime? I’d like you to give me some pointers on becoming a better marksman. Are you as good with a rifle as you are with a shotgun?”

“My daed was an excellent shot. When I reached eleven, he showed me how to use a shotgun, rifle, and pistol. We practiced every chance we got. We really had a good time. The woods in back of our haus provided the perfect place for target shooting. He’d save and line up empty tin cans on fallen trees. When I had mastered hitting them, he moved the cans to a spot farther away. His method is what helped me improve my distance shooting.”

“It must’ve been hard to lose him at an early age. Sounds like you were close.”

“Jah, I miss him. We were close. He was a good listener, teacher, friend, and confidante, in addition to being a loving daed.”

“If he was anything like you, I’m sure he was a fine man.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “I’m serious about having you show me how to improve my marksmanship. I’ll visit you at your store in a week or two, and we’ll pick a day.”

Mark’s heart leapt. He had not been in a favorable place with Grace’s daed a few days ago. He had worried it would be difficult to regain Mr. Blauch’s confidence. It was a blessing Grace’s daed had chosen him to partner with to find Jonah. They had gotten better acquainted. Shooting targets in the woods would be a way for them to cultivate a friendship. If Mr. Blauch didn’t kumme to the shop in a week or two, he’d approach him about setting a time for target practice. He’d start saving empty cans tomorrow.

He pictured how Grace’s lovely face would look when he told her about his afternoon with her daed. He had no doubt her face would beam. Laying eyes on her face couldn’t kumme soon enough.

Chapter Eight

Grace paused on the boardwalk Tuesday morning. Who was the woman running out of Mark’s shop with him? Something must be wrong. She ran to meet them.

“What’s the matter?”

Mark appeared happy to see her. “Mrs. Oyer came into my shop by mistake. She got flustered and thought she had gone into your store. What a relief to find you coming up the boardwalk. She needs your help.”

Mrs. Oyer squinted and her lips trembled. She grasped Grace’s arm. “Please kumme with me. My dochder, Marie, is having her boppli. Hester is on another call. Marie’s husband is with her. She’s bleeding and in pain. I’m afraid something is wrong.”

Mark faced her. “Grace, I’ll go with you. I can fetch water and sit with her dochder’s husband. I’ll lock my store and get our horses and wagons.”

Mrs. Oyer untied her horse from the hitching post outside Mark’s store. “I’ll wait here.” She climbed in her wagon.

Grace ran to the shop and stuck her head in the door. “Sarah, I’m needed to help with a birth. I might go home after I’m finished.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about returning here. I hope everything goes well.”

“Danki.” Grace darted outside and met Mark and Mrs. Oyer. She dropped her bag in the wagon.

Grace motioned for Mrs. Oyer to go ahead, and she and Mark followed in their separate wagons. Mark didn’t have to kumme. She had helped many a mamm birth their boppli. His assistance wasn’t necessary. She didn’t like taking him away from his shop. But again, he’d jumped in to assist her.

Mrs. Oyer stopped in front of a small white haus with a garden to the side.

Grace grabbed her bag out of her wagon.

Mark jumped out of his and accepted the reins from both women. “I’ll take care of the horses.”

Screams rang out. Grace lifted her long skirt and bolted inside, behind Mrs. Oyer, to Marie’s bedroom. Marie had sweat-matted hair and thrashed in her soiled gown on bloodstained sheets.

The terrified woman pressed her hands on her stomach. “Something’s wrong. Please help me. I’ve been with child only seven months. It’s too early.”

A man stood and hugged his arms to his sides. “This is my wife, Marie, and I’m her husband, Joel Brandenburg. Please help my fraa.” His face filled with fright and he kissed his fraa’s damp forehead. “I’ll be in the kitchen or outside.”

“I’m Grace Blauch. I’m a midwife. I’ll do my best for your family.”

Mrs. Oyer knelt by her dochder’s bed. She dipped a cloth in a bowl of water sitting on a bedside table and wiped Marie’s forehead. “Try and stay calm, my dear dochder.” Her pleading gaze held Grace’s.

Grace bit her tongue to hide her concern.
Seven months.
The boppli would be at risk. She poured witch hazel from her bag onto a clean cloth to clean her hands then checked Marie.
Oh no,
the infant’s feet were where the head should be in the birth canal. “Mrs. Oyer, please hold Marie’s shoulders firm against the bed. I need to reach in and turn the infant into position. Marie, what I have to do will hurt, but it must be done.” She eased her fingers as far inside Marie as she could and worked fast to turn the small body.

Marie gripped the white cotton bedsheet and paled.

Mrs. Oyer’s lips trembled. “The pain will be worth it once you lay eyes on your new little maedel or boy. Please take a deep breath and keep still to help your child.”

Marie whimpered, groaned, and cried but didn’t scream or kick.

Grace concentrated on the boppli and worked as fast as she could.

“You’re doing a fine job, Marie.” She eased her hands out. “I’m going to count to three. On three, push as hard as you can.” She nodded to Mrs. Oyer. “Ease her shoulders up to help her with this.” With arms out, Grace counted. “One, two, three, push.”

The new mamm grunted and her cheeks turned bright red. Beads of sweat dripped from her face.

The infant’s head emerged. Grace gently moved the infant’s shoulders and the rest of the tiny lifeless body slid out in her hands. The infant’s legs and arms twisted in the wrong direction. The little maedel’s right hand showed two fingers missing, and the left hand had none. The head appeared misshapen and her mouth twisted. Her color was ashen and her body limp. No movement or sound came from the newborn. Her tiny, grotesque, delicate body was like an injured bird. Tears pooled in Grace’s eyes. She closed them for a moment and fought to keep from trembling. She blinked several times and faced the distressed woman.

“Do I have a maedel or a boy?”

“You have a dochder.”

“Why hasn’t she cried or moved?”

Grace didn’t answer. She had to check the infant for her peace of mind and to stall for strength to tell Marie her boppli was stillborn. She held the infant with one hand and grabbed her stethoscope out of the bag with her other. The tips in her ears, she pressed the metal pad to the infant’s chest and listened for a heartbeat. She swallowed around the lump in her throat, removed her stethoscope, and set it aside.

The two pale and stricken women stared at her.

She held the newborn low, so they couldn’t see her. “I’m sorry. Your dochder is lifeless.”

Mrs. Oyer and Marie sobbed and held each other.

Grace’s tears dripped onto her cheeks. “Would you like to hold her? Her face and body aren’t normal.”

Marie parted from her Mamm’s arms and wiped her eyes. “Please give her to me.”

Grace held up her palm then carried the infant to a small table. “I’ll clean her first.” She grasped the pitcher and poured water into a bowl then washed the infant and dried her.

Marie’s voice quivered. “Please wrap her in the white cotton blanket on the dresser. Mamm sewed it for her.” She slumped back against her mamm. Marie looked like a picture of hopelessness.

Mrs. Oyer stroked her daughter’s hair. She let her tears fall. “I’m sorry, my sweet child.”

Would Marie be able to handle the sight of her abnormal child? She guessed some people might be repelled by her. She had empathy for the infant and couldn’t turn her head from her. Grace touched her downy cheek. Maybe her birthmark allowed her to gaze upon the newborn’s imperfections without wincing. All she felt was a deep sadness. She’d not faced a more disfigured boppli than this newborn. She placed the swaddled infant in Marie’s outstretched arms and waited.

Marie gasped, closed her eyes, and passed the bundle to her mamm. “I’m sorry. I can’t stand the sight of her.” She hung her head. “I’m so ashamed.”

Grace blinked back stinging tears. Marie had suffered losing her child and might be haunted by the sight of her for a time. Mrs. Oyer passed the bundle back to Grace and comforted and supported her dochder with love and compassion. How blessed Marie was to have such a loving mamm. Mark and the new daed came to mind. “I’ll find the stove and warm the water. I need to remove the afterbirth and clean you. Are you ready for your husband to kumme in?”